


The Room Too Familiar

by windsweep



Series: kiss the cleric [1]
Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Soen no Kiseki/Akatsuki no Megami | Fire Emblem Path of Radiance/Radiant Dawn
Genre: M/M, Pre-Canon, Rolf and Mist show up for a few seconds at the beginning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-27
Updated: 2020-07-27
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:14:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25546498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/windsweep/pseuds/windsweep
Summary: Shinon is injured in battle... again, and needs the company's sole healer's attention... again.
Relationships: Kilroy | Rhys/Shinon (Fire Emblem)
Series: kiss the cleric [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1854409
Comments: 5
Kudos: 16





	The Room Too Familiar

**Author's Note:**

> baby's first public fanfiction, please be kind.

Shinon awakens on a cot, finding his left leg elevated on a pile of cushions. Oh, joy. The infirmary room again… he’s distantly aware of what happened to him yesterday, but his brain hasn’t quite caught up to the time yet. Sunlight radiates through the room’s sole window, stinging at his eyes but at least letting him know that he didn’t sleep in for a full day. In an effort to distract himself from the aches and pains coursing along his body, he decides to fix his gaze at the ceiling he’s been starting to get acquainted with over the past six months. Down the hall, from the other room, he begins to hear the whistle of a tea kettle, and cringes at the high-pitched sound. Shortly after it stops, he begins to hear hushed voices from the same room instead.

“Thank you two so much for your help today,” says a gentle voice. “Can I ask you each one last favour?”

“Sure thing, Rhys!” a cheerful voice chimes.

“Yeah, we’ll help!” a child’s excited voice echoes, a little louder than the other two, as if its owner didn’t quite get the memo that they all needed to be quiet right now.

“Great! Angels, the two of you… Alright, I need to carry this tray to the infirmary, but I’ll need both hands… Mist, can you carry us a couple of cups? The large ones, please. And, Rolf-- your present only needs one hand to carry, right?” A pause, probably awaiting an answer…. “If I could have you take the lead and open the doors for us, that’d be very helpful.”

“He’s gonna love what we got him!” Rolf’s voice travels down the hall on quick footsteps. _Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap_.

“Indoor voice, please,” Rhys calls after him.

“I didn’t think he was a flower person…” Mist says, like she’s mulling over a little epiphany.

“No, he is, trust me!” Rolf manages to whisper loudly, _somehow_. Shinon likes the kid, but all this commotion is beginning to get grating. Couldn’t they all have waited until he was just a little more awake?

Rolf cracks the infirmary door open. “Uncle Shinon, Uncle Shinon,” he chants like he’s trying to get a wary stray cat’s attention. 

“Morning, Rolf,” Shinon croaks out. He sits up to get a better view of his new company. No use in trying to get back to sleep at this point.

“Oh, it’s not morning. Actually, I think it’ll be sunset in maybe an hour… it’s actually been a pretty long day for us because we-- Oh! Uncle Shinon, we--”

“Slow down,” Shinon says a little more tersely than he meant to, but since he just got fucked up yesterday he doesn’t feel as bad about it as he might have under another circumstance.

“Oh, right… Sorry,” Rolf walks through the doorway, a basket full of wildflowers coloured red, blue, orange, purple, and white, including some white, fluffy dandelions for some reason only Ashera knows, dangling from his arm. He holds it with his hands and walks it to the long bedside table so that Shinon can get a better look. “I got you a present! Or-- Mist helped me pick the flowers, ‘cause she picks flowers all the time, but the bouquet was my idea… Get well soon, Uncle Shinon!”

“Great.”

“You really think so? It was my first time making one,” Rolf pipes up again, that excited puppy dog look in his eyes. _Obviously_ , the most irritable part of Shinon wants to say, but he holds his tongue. When Shinon dies, Ashera will have a great list of sins to judge his soul for, but she _won’t_ be able to say that he never tried to be patient with children. “But you’re supposed to take out the dandelions later. ‘Cause they’re good luck! If you make wishes on them…”

Mist walks into the room to set down the two large cups next to the basket of weeds and flowers. “Hey, Shinon. You’re awake!”

“Yeah.”

Rhys’ arrival follows Mist’s shortly. He carries in a large tray holding a teapot and a thick slice of bread, with a knife and butter on the side. “Impeccable timing, too. Dinner should be ready soon. In the meantime, I brought you an appetizer and some medicinal tea.”

Not Shinon’s preferred drink, but he could admit he was feeling pretty parched right now. Some bread could really hit the spot, too, considering he missed dinner last night. Despite these thoughts, all that comes out of his mouth is, “Is King Crimea going to visit me next?”

“You’re welcome, Shinon,” Rhys says in his typical serene voice, but Shinon detects a hint of sarcasm there. Even the watchful angel of the Greil Mercenaries felt irritation sometimes, but usually Shinon found it difficult to really draw it out of him. Maybe Rolf was right about it having been a long day. “It _is_ kind of crowded for such a small room, though. Is it alright if I ask you two to play in another room? I need to examine Shinon’s wounds.”

The two children nod and say their goodbyes; Mist closes the door carefully behind them. Once they’re gone, Rhys pulls up the chair by the bedside table and sighs as he sits to rest his tired legs. He passes the plate of bread and butter over to Shinon, who immediately tears into it like a starving dog. Next, Rhys carefully pours the two of them some tea.

“Last time you had to stay overnight in this room, you complained about the taste of vulneraries,” Rhys explains. “ _Fucking rancid_ , I believe your exact words were.”

That phrase earns a snicker from Shinon. Shinon never _laughs_ , exactly, in the same way he never truly smiles but rather smirks. But it did amuse him to hear Rhys mimic his foul words.

“I thought you might like a more natural painkiller, then,” Rhys continues. He offers one of the cups to Shinon, who holds it in his hands, feeling the warmth of it spread along his skin. “I brew this tea for my own pains all the time, but the specific herbs grow in places that are difficult for me to reach… so I had the kids help me today, but… they can be a little too energetic to keep up with sometimes.”

“Mm, I can imagine,” Shinon replies, but he doesn’t _have to_ imagine. He knows how fidgety Rolf can get when it comes time for their archery practice. Shinon thinks he will die before he ever talks about his secret mentorship with Rhys, though, or with anyone else for that matter. He sniffs at the tea in his hands and feels the pungent scent fill his nostrils. His nose scrunches up. “Rhys, this reeks. Trying to poison me, are you? My injuries that hopeless, Doc?” 

“No, _heavens_ no!” Rhys sounds a little hurt, but it’s not as funny this time for some reason… “It’s safe. I just said I use it regularly. Here, I’ll prove it.” Rhys takes a long sip out of his cup and swallows. “It’s best to drink it hot, but it’s an acquired taste. Just to warn you.”

“I was just ribbing you, Rhys. Y’know, to get a reaction out of you? I don’t actually think you could poison someone. You aren’t capable,” Shinon says, but nonetheless takes only a tentative sip. Sure enough, it has a bitter herbal taste, but it’s also got a pleasant sweet aftertaste to it. In contrast, vulneraries were indeed _fucking rancid_ , like trying to swallow jelly, and they tasted like wild vegetation. Rhys’ idea was very smart. He finds himself taking another sip soon after the first.

“What do you mean by that?” Rhys tilts his head, just a little bit.

“You’d feel so guilty about poisoning your coworker. It’d tear you up inside. You wouldn’t be able to live with yourself. You’d take up some kind of dark magic to make yourself forget. And so on and so forth…”

Rhys seems to pointedly ignore the thought that he would blaspheme Ashera by ever studying elder magic. “Coworkers? No, I’d feel even worse than you describe. I actually consider us friends. Maybe that’s naive of me, but it’s the truth.” 

It’s all Shinon can do to stop himself from spitting out his drink. “What?” _Why?_ “There’s no _maybe_ about it, that _is_ naive! For your sake, I hope we never end up on opposite sides of a job.” Stupid, stupid Rhys, head all full of fairy-stories about trust and redemption and faith…. Someone has to protect him from himself. “Besides, if you haven’t noticed, we only ever talk when I’m injured. This is just your job. An order of business. Not exactly the basis for a friendship.”

This seems to trouble Rhys for reasons beyond Shinon’s comprehension. His face twists into a frown. “It’s my role in this company, but that doesn’t mean I don’t care about it when you get injured… Mending wounds isn’t easy. I have to try my best each time it happens. And I do feel happy for my patients and their loved ones when they’ve recovered. You were so scared back when Captain Titania suffered her grave injury--”

“ _Shut it_ , Rhys.”

“...I’m sorry, Shinon. I shouldn’t bring up such memories when you’re trying to recover.” A long pause as they both drank. “I’m glad I was able to come through that time.”

“Yeah.”

“But that was besides the point I was trying to make, anyway. You come here pretty often.”

“Is that supposed to be a jab at me? The _one time_ I accidentally roll my ankle and fall?” Shinon pulls a scowl. Of course. The weak often turn to passive-aggression to express themselves. Just because Rhys pretends to be perfect doesn’t mean he’s any different.

“No! No, no, no. I keep saying the wrong things-- I’m really sorry. What I meant to say is that I think we see each other around often enough that you’re not just a coworker or acquaintance to me. We talk a lot when you’re here.”

“Ain’t shit else to do,” Shinon grumbles. “Weren’t you going to check my wounds?”

“Right. Sorry,” Rhys rises from his chair to grab new bandages from a storage crate sitting along the wall to the left of him and a Mend staff hanging along on a rack along that same wall. He returns to Shinon’s bedside.

“Apologise _one more time_ , Rhys.” Shinon watches Rhys’ mouth twitch in a way that lets him know Rhys only barely suppressed the urge to apologise for apologising. Shinon sighs, but his heart isn’t fully in it.

“Can you give me your right arm?” Rhys asks, and Shinon stretches over to let him reach for the bandaged limb. Gently, but with purpose, Rhys removes the old bandages. “Perfect, just like that, thank you.” He points the head of his staff toward Shinon’s arm and it shimmers green as a soothing light spreads over the damaged limb. “It got all scraped up yesterday, but I had a sudden exhaustion episode last evening, so I wasn’t able to properly heal it… it should be a simple injury to fix, though.” 

“You passed out yesterday?” This is the first Shinon’s heard of it, although he isn’t surprised. The entire group know about Rhys’ fatigue spells, and a few of them have had to carry him to safety on some occasions. Rhys never ventured too far away from their base alone as a result.

“Yes, and I slept in rather late this morning as a result. I couldn’t maintain the focus I needed to cast a healing spell, so I had Captain Titania help me bandage it up in the meantime. I think it already looks a lot better now, but I might cast Mend on it again when I visit you tomorrow.”

Shinon looks over his arm and finds that his injuries are much smaller than before, and his pain has mostly subsided. Rhys bandages it up again, and Shinon withdraws his arm afterward. “Alright.”

“It’s your left ankle I’m mainly concerned about. It got twisted up pretty badly when you dodged that bandit’s axe. I’m just glad he didn’t get the chance to tear a big gash in you.” Again with his swift but confident fingers, Rhys undoes the bandages wrapped around Shinon’s ankle to cast Mend on the area and reapply a fresh wrapping. “What I’m planning right now is to cast Mend and re-wrap the injury twice each day. My tea herbs are plentiful this time of year, so I can continue brewing more tea when I come in to visit if you’d like. I should be doing these things for about a week, give or take.”

“A _week_?”

“I know, it’s kind of a long time to be out of commission… but I’m not a very powerful healer yet. I need to take injuries like these slowly, and I want to be certain it’s healed before we send you out on jobs again. Otherwise, your ankle could give out while you’re on the battlefield, and _that_ could lead to _another_ injury...”

“Alright, I get it already,” Shinon grumbles. A week spent sitting around with Rhys and the kids instead of getting out there sticking arrows in people, huh… Rhys himself wasn’t such bad company, if only he could stop saying such dumbass things. That actually wasn’t Rhys’ worst quality, though. _That_ would be his hypervigilance of everything that comes in and out of the infirmary ever since he caught Gatrie trying to sneak Shinon some booze last time he got seriously injured. If only Rhys let him drink, Shinon could tolerate the puppy dog eyes, the sickening sweetness, the naivety that makes sense for Rolf to have but is an incomprehensible trait in a grown adult. “There’s nothing for it. I’ll stay put.”

Rhys seats himself in his chair again and the two share some moments of silence as the sun begins to set, casting the room in an orange glow. The light seems to illuminate the space around Rhys’ head, a halo to match his hair, and Shinon watches his expression change to that of someone lost deep in thought. “...Shinon?”

“What now.”

“I just wish I understood you. Sometimes you act like you’re going to disregard my instructions, but you follow them in the end, anyway. _Usually_. You say one thing but do another… all the time.” 

“Oh, is that all? Your medical advice hasn’t steered us wrong yet, and I like giving people a hard time. It’s that simple.”

“I feel like one of your more favourite targets for screwing around with,” Rhys says flatly.

“You might be.”

“Do you dislike me, Shinon? More than you dislike the average person.” Rhys asks, finally getting to the point. Shinon was really beginning to believe he would never get to this point. Maybe he would start believing in miracles after this. 

For now, he scoffs. “Ashera’s sake, Rhys. If I _hated_ you, there wouldn’t be any confusion about it. What would I even hate you for? Carefully and swiftly attending to my wounds? Yeah, I can’t _stand_ that Rhys dick, always carrying out his duty to the best of his ability. The balls of this guy to do his job of keeping the rest of us out of the grave. Come on. You want my honest opinion?”

“Do I…?”

“I think that if you don’t, then you shouldn’t have wasted your time asking me if I hate you. Don’t pussy out on me now.”

“Alright, I won’t. What do you think, Shinon?”

“First time anyone’s ever asked me that,” Shinon replies, and Rhys allows himself a little laugh despite himself, but Shinon doesn’t mind it. “You’re too _nice_ , Rhys. I talk shit just to see if you’ll get even slightly pissed about it, and you hardly ever even take the bait. You sound like a character from the church stories they teach little children when you say shit like how you’re _friends_ with a mercenary you haven’t even known that long just because he needs your help every so often. Calling it now, you’re either going to get yourself killed running to help everyone all the time, or someone’s going to betray you and do you in. And you’re _smiling_ because you don’t think any of this is a flaw! I see you.”

Rhys laughs lightly, at himself rather than at Shinon. “You’re right, I really don’t. It’s important to me to be patient and forgiving of other people. You’ve got me figured out! I wouldn’t mind dying for the sake of someone else, and I don’t think I’d have it in me to raise a hand against a friend.”

“Don’t say shit like that!” Shinon says, betraying a little more emotion than he’d meant to, but he hopes he can blame that on pain and fatigue later. He puts his left arm out and motions for Rhys to give him his hand; once Rhys scoots his chair forward and does just that, Shinon clutches it.

“Um… Shinon?”

“Listen to me. Don’t say shit like that,” Shinon repeats himself as he looks directly into Rhys’ eyes. Rhys feels the urge to avert his gaze, but Shinon seems dead serious about what he’s about to say, and Rhys wants to pay full attention to him. “That wasn’t a compliment. Those are the top two dumbest reasons to die. If you care about other people so much, why don’t you _live_ for them?”

“Ah-- I didn’t know you felt so strongly…”

“I don’t,” Shinon lies. “I just hate hearing stupid naive bullshit. Especially from our only healer. And Ashera wouldn’t want one of her loyal lambs talking about their own lives so flippantly, I’m sure.”

“I thought you didn’t believe in Ashera.”

“I do for the bad things.” Although Shinon already said his piece and is calming down again now, he doesn’t release Rhys’ hand. He does, however, loosen his grip just a bit. Rhys could break hand contact if he wanted to, but he finds that he doesn’t. Instead, Rhys starts feeling Shinon’s hand, calloused and rough but burning warm with the fire of life inside, much like the person it belongs to, and Shinon allows it. As the sunlight dies around them, Rhys is dimly aware that he should go fetch them a candle, but the two continue to peer into each other’s eyes in the sun’s final moments. 

Rhys leans forward. “Shinon, I…”

To Rhys’ pleasant surprise, though, it’s Shinon’s lips that meet Rhys’, and the two share a long kiss in silence, at least until the sun is dangerously close to finally setting, at which point Rhys pulls away and puts his hand back on his own leg. 

“I didn’t know…” Rhys says quietly, as if afraid to break the peaceful silence between them.

“Yeah, well. Keep it between the two of us.”

“I will. I swear it,” Rhys says, and normally Shinon wouldn’t trust anybody based on their word alone, but he knows that Rhys would probably go flagellate himself in the nearest town if he ever broke a promise. “...It’s nearly dark. Do you want me to get you a candle?”

“No, I wanted to sleep anyway.”

“Oh, but dinner should be ready by now--”

“Don’t make me repeat myself, Rhys.”

“...Alright. Good night, Shinon.” Rhys stands up slowly so as to not dizzy himself and walks out the hall toward the kitchen. He closes the door quietly behind him.

“Night,” Shinon calls after him, the sound muffled by the door.

**Author's Note:**

> rhys is the only adult character shinon will run up and talk to in an attempt to spare rather than immediately try to kill in PoR chapter 18. it's easy to chalk that up to pity on a sick and frail man, but shinon was apparently scared shitless when he thought titania might have died the previous year. bear in mind that titania is one of the only people on tellius he genuinely respects. perhaps he feels some level of gratitude or even respect for someone who was the group's only healer for a while? i invite you to join the rhyshinon agenda and think about it with me. 
> 
> P.S. "pretty boy" is a really gay insult. really, ch18 shinon?


End file.
